


You're the Smoke and I'm Breathing You In

by ryanbabyitsfreezing



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: High School, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25901845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanbabyitsfreezing/pseuds/ryanbabyitsfreezing
Summary: Ryan's not religious, but he knows a decent guy when he meets one. He hopes the kid is okay.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Ryden





	1. Tiny Little Things

Ryan lights a cigarette for Pete before he lights one for himself. They stare at the city lights, cut by the highway between the overlook and downtown. It would almost be romantic if they weren't talking so much shit. Pete is a little older than Ryan and a lot meaner. Ryan's seen him ruin entire social lives of the people who crossed him. Fucked up. Ryan did his best to stay on Pete's good side.  
"It's just so fucking gross because Joe did nothing wrong and now she gets to act like he threw her around and shit. What a bitch."  
Ryan takes a drag and Pete goes on.  
"Poor guy, out here wondering now who's saying it and thinking it and the truth is that he broke her phone on accident. Are we calling accidents abuse now? Come on. Fucking ridiculous."  
Ryan's not a huge fan of the blind defense, honestly.  
"Yeah dude but it's just hard because like that's how she feels, man, and that's not something we get to change even if we believe Joe didn't have bad intentions."  
Pete shakes his head.  
"Ry, one day you're gonna wake up and get that she's a lying cunt."  
"Probably," Ryan relents. He finishes his smoke and starts to walk to the dumpster to throw it. Pete doesn't get why he doesn't just stub 'em even though Ryan explained at least once that it's because he read that pigeons eat them and it poisons them. Pete finishes his about as Ryan comes back from throwing his away.  
He heads back towards the car and leans on the hood next to Pete for little while longer. It's the nicest view in town, probably. Ryan likes watching the cars on the highway speed past. Pete does too, he thinks.  
After a while, Pete says, "wanna go back to my place and smoke?"  
Ryan was hoping he would say so. He hates getting baked alone, and he doesn't really wanna be sober tonight.  
"Yeah, that'd be sick." They climb into the car and Ryan starts it, but not before taking one last long look at the city below them. He loves the lights. All those tiny little people just like him, turning on their tiny little lights to live their big, huge lives.  
Ryan turns on the radio and hits the disc button for the old blues CD he's got in. Jackie Wilson croones with that fucking godly voice of his, and Ryan resists to urge to hum along.  
"Fuck yeah," he mumbles about the instrumental.  
Pete just nods, so Ryan knows to change it back to the stations after this song. They can agree on some intelligent, angsty trap that comes on. The drive is pretty long but they just talk through it. It's nice when they're together. Ryan's tired of being alone.

They get to Pete's house and Pete starts setting up the rig. Dabs are Ryan's least favorite but at least it's not the nasty way they used to do it with Mikey and Frank- a metal straw and that fucking little claw Frank had. That shit hurt. They talk for a while while they take hits. After a while they alternate between talking and just sitting on Pete's bed and staring around his room. Pete's good company, and Ryan's feeling alright, which is an improvement from yesterday. There's a point when he thinks about kissing Pete but he decides against it. No real point to that.

Ryan drives home very, very high and a little nervous about it, parks alright, eats a bagel and some cereal and passes out with his clothes still on.  
Things are okay. Not great, but. Okay.

He wakes up bleary and bored, but still not bad. He plays some Bowie from his phone and reads for a bit, but his book is pretentious and boring so he fucks off from it and shuffles into the kitchen for another bagel. His plan is basically to watch Shameless all day, hopefully getting some homework done in the process. He gets out his math textbook and his binder and sits down in front of the TV. Sundays make him kinda sad, but he shrugs it off as usual and busies himself.

Around 4pm he hears a knock on the door. He absently wonders who the hell still knocks on people's doors while he heads to answer it. He opens it to two young men in white shirts with black ties and badges, one of which he he recognizes.  
Ryan laughs.  
Oh god, of course.  
"Yes?" he asks.  
The boy he knowns looks taken a back a little. Maybe he doesn't know the folks he solicits to most of the time.  
The other one has already shot into the script, though.  
"Not interested, sorry." Ryan says. He adds "nice to see you," aimed at the one he's seen around. He steps back and after the one he doesn't recognize says goodbye, and thanks anyways for his time, and shoves a pamphlet at him in case Ryan changes his mind, he shuts the door.  
He looks down at the pamphlet thing. 'History of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints'.  
The kid hasn't been at school recently, but Ryan is still pretty sure he's too young to be on his mission. Maybe he dropped out. Ryan hopes not, because that seems pretty sad no matter how you look at it. Does God really think it can't wait until you have a real diploma?  
Sad, for sure. But whatever; it's not Ryan's business. He goes towards the kitchen and pours himself a water. Fuck, he's tired. Maybe he needs a nap.

The next day Ryan has just sat down in his first when Brent joins him.  
"How's it going?" Brent asks.  
"I'm alright. You know how it is."  
"Yeah." Brent nods.  
"How are you, man?" Ryan says, getting a pencil out.  
"I dunno dude. Lily's mad again. Mad as hell."  
"About what?" Ryan asks, knowing with full clarity that they're both shitty significant others and it's probably stupid.  
"I was late to meet her folks last night and she's pissed. It was only like, twenty minutes, too, and her parents said it wasn't a big deal, man, they know how young guys are, but Lily isn't even talking to me. She wants those good morning texts so bad, but most of the time she's too pissed to even respond to them. Goddamn."  
"Dude yeah," Ryan grunts while he gets out his homework. "Oh dude, guess what happened."  
"What?"  
"Remember that mormon kid who dropped out?"  
"Which one, the one who did the national anthem at the homecoming assembly?" Ryan remembers how he would take all the solos in the god-loving songs that the choir would do, on the rare occasion when Ryan would catch a choir show. Usually he mostly wanted to see the orchestra or the guitar class or both and the choir came on before them.  
"Yeah, exactly, him."  
"Yeah," Brent laughs. "I remember."  
"Well dude, he showed up at my door yesterday. He's soliciting."  
"No fucking way."  
"Dude, yeah."  
"Didn't Spencer know him a little?"  
Ryan wonders how much a little was. Spencer's pretty friendly.  
"Probably, Spencer knows everybody."  
"I could never dude, imagine sitting there while he tells you about the book of mormon."  
"Might fuck around and flush his badge," Ryan jokes dryly.  
"Not all of us wanna be godless, Ryan."  
"Hey, fuck you. My god is pussy."  
"Uh huh, because you get so much."  
"I-"  
"I know about the one hot girl you fucked, Ryan."  
"Yeah well maybe I don't want to simp for pussy my whole life, Mr. Morning text."  
"Get fucked."  
"You too," Ryan says before they both focus on the teacher who's walked to the front of class, still amused by the banter. Class finally starts, then, and they both focus vaguely on the homework review.

At lunch, Ryan sits down with Brent and Spencer in the music room, holding a school guitar and trying to tune it from memory. He tells Spencer about the kid showing up to his door. Spencer frowns.  
"Isn't he too young?'  
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Ryan says through the pick in his mouth.  
"Damn, I hope he comes back to school."  
Ryan thinks about that for a second. Remembers briefly the time that kid asked him to edit his english paper. It was alright; pretty great for a high school paper, and the kid was kinda funny about the edits. Thought on his feet.  
"Yeah," Ryan says. "Me too."


	2. Dumb Dumb Dumb Boy

“This would probably be easier if you knew what you wanted.”  
“Shut up.” Ryan keeps thumbing through the CDs in the thrift store.  
“Okay, okay, something good, I know, but how am I supposed to help with that? I don’t know what’s-”  
Ryan looks at Spencer directly in the eye and cuts him off.  
“Spencer. You know what’s good.”  
Spencer huffs a little and turns back to his CD box.  
“The Smashing Pumpkins? It’s a little scratched but-”  
“How scratched?”  
Spencer shows him. It’s only $1.50.  
“Okay, I’m getting it.” Ryan snatches it from him. “Cool.”  
They keep looking and Ryan finds Hunky Dory and the best of the Stones, and they head to check out but stop to browse some clothes on the way.  
Spencer finds an old leather jacket that he likes.  
“Oh dude look at this.”  
Ryan raises an eyebrow. “It’s simple.” Upon realizing he doesn’t sound supportive, he says, “A classic, you know?”  
Spencer nods and tries it on.  
Ryan lets out a quiet whistle and they both grin like idiots.  
“Okay Christian Vander, look at you.”  
“Shut up, he wore a leather jacket like twice,”  
“And now you’ve worn one once. You should get it, you look like you should be breaking my kneecaps and then fucking off to a punk band.”  
“Paul Cook.”  
“Yeah, him.”  
He punches Ryan in the arm.  
“Fuck off, Spence; you and your sex and your pistols and your murder at the Chelsea hotel. I don’t have the energy for all that rage. I’m more Born in the USA and less Anarchy in the UK, and you know what? I’ve never stabbed my girlfriend while on heroin, so,” he smirks, “maybe that’s okay.”  
Spencer grunts.  
“Not fair to use Sid against them. Don’t even know if he did it.”  
“You’re right,” Ryan deadpans. “He doesn’t even know, which, in my book, is about as innocent as it gets.”  
“Doesn’t have any effect on quality.”  
“I disagree. I think all that anger comes from somewhere and goes somewhere.”  
Spencer just laughs while he takes off the jacket, having analysed himself in the mirror.  
“You’re just mad because you can’t cry to it alone in your car.”  
Ryan flushes just a little. The girl in the row across from theirs glanced up at that.  
“Shut up,” he mumbles. Spencer laughs and Ryan giggles a little, eyes cast down. What a bastard.

They pool their money and check out together at the front, and as they leave Spencer pulls the tag off of the jacket and Ryan checks his phone and winces, looking at the texts he sent Jac last night, because god, what is he doing night texting her.  
“We getting wasted tonight?” Spencer asks while they climb into their respective cars, Ryan reaching to put the new CDs in his big CD backpack in the backseat. He keeps the Bowie one with him, though, and ejects the Alanis Morisette album he had in, putting it back in it’s case and into the backpack, to put Hunky Dory in.  
“That’s the plan,” Ryan says.  
“Park first?” Spencer asks.  
“Yeah.”  
Changes starts while Ryan follows Spencer to the park sort of by his house- just far enough so that Spencer’s mom doesn’t know what kind of debauchery they partake in. He knows the way, so he mostly just focuses on the music. Ryan really likes driving for this reason. Just him, the road, and the music. Couldn’t be better.  
He gets the cigarettes out of his center console and lights one while he walks up to the park. Spencer is sitting under a tree and checking his phone when Ryan comes up to him and sits down.  
“Where’s your jacket, Paul Cook?” Ryan says, offering the pack.  
Spencer takes a smoke from him. “Up your ass, probably.”  
Ryan leans all the way back so he’s looking up at the leaves, propped up by his elbows.  
“Such cruelty. You know I’d let you shove anything up my ass.” He leans on one elbow to flick his cigarette before putting it back in the side of his mouth. “That’s what love means.”  
Spencer eyes him. “Your version of love is fucked up.”  
“What’s new?” They both blow out smoke.

They sit in the park and just talk for a couple of hours.

•••

Ryan wakes up groggy to the sound of Is She Weird by the Pixies playing on the speaker in Spencer’s room. He’s surprised to find that he’s not that hungover, but then he vaguely remembers the hangover taking form right before he fell asleep and being a bitch, so he figures he must have slept it off. He is however sprawled on the floor and not on the couch in Spencer’s room that’s reserved for him, and upon moving slightly he finds that his entire body is immensely sore.  
Spencer is passed out on his bed horizontally. Ryan sits up and tries to run his hand through his hair but it’s too matted for his fingers to get through. Gross.  
He gets up and traipses towards the shower.  
In the bathroom he finds that he has two hickeys on his neck. He immediately turns back to the room to try and find his phone.  
He finds Spencer’s, which is plugged into the wall next to the speaker. He uses Spencer’s to call his own, and it vibrates from under the couch- or inside the couch?  
It’s under the couch in the end, very very close to death. He plugs it into the cord Spencer’s was in, and checks his recent interactions.  
A text to Jac: “Babyyy hahaha how it go I miss you”.  
A missed call from Jac.  
A text from Jac that says “are you drunk?”  
“yis haha wbu”  
“yeah, kinda” another from Jac: “you should come over”  
“Hmmmmm let check”  
Another from Ryan: “coming”

Spencer’s awake by now and watching him check his phone in horror.  
“Spencer, what-”  
“You hooked up with Jac again.”  
“Fucking how?” Ryan has very blurry memories of maybe her kissing him and telling him how broken he was and how she just wanted to make him feel better.  
“Brent drove you. He owes you one less DD ride now. I told you you could have exactly one hour and then you had to come back so we could drunk watch Blade Runner but then that girl Laura hit me up so Brent drove me too.”  
“Were you drunk?”  
“Yeah, but I wasn’t as gone as you were. Brent said that when he picked you up Jac told him to make sure you never talked to her again. She wasn’t drunk enough to have fucked you, dude. You were so out."  
"She only likes me when she's drunk."  
Spencer makes an intentionally guarded face and Ryan knows he has plenty to say but, hey, what's Ryan supposed to do? Give up on the one girl who likes him?  
"She was mad, though," Spencer says. "You probably threw up on her.”  
Ryan hadn't considered that, and finds the thought mortifying. "Oh god." He puts his head in his hand and presses his palms to his eyes.  
No, no, no. There’s no way. He’s sure there’s no way. Sad puppy, she loves that stuff. Loves trying to fix him when she gets bored and drunk and sad enough to try. If he threw up on her she’d go right into “oh you poor, poor thing.” Or maybe she’d be mad. He’s not sure. Fuck.  
“Fuck.”  
“Yeah. It was wild, man.” Spencer pauses for a while. “Wanna get IHOP?”  
Ryan just nods and heads back towards the shower.  
He has to find out what the fuck happened with Jac last night, but he knows he has to do it person. He prays he can corner her at school tomorrow and get her to talk to him before putting the thought all the way out his mind- or trying to- and focusing on the looming promise of pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksksks i know my chapters are really short but i promise i'll keep doing them really often hehe


	3. She's Holding (me) Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan tries to figure out what's up with Jac

Jac narrows her eyes. They’ve been doing this for several minutes.  
“Go away, Ryan.”  
“Look. I just want to know-”  
“I don’t want to talk to you.”  
“I know but I don’t see why. What the fuck did I do that-”  
“Ryan!” Jac raises her voice, seeming to get desperate to get Ryan to give it up. “Leave me alone!”  
He looks her in the eyes. He’s really starting to get worried about whatever he did. He knows himself, right? He knows he wouldn’t do anything awful but- but it’s still his job to check in on her. To make sure he didn’t- fuck her over. Or something.  
“Jac. Whatever I did, I am so, so sorry.”  
“No!” she half yells. “It’s not even like that.”  
Thank fuck. Nevertheless, he’s getting exasperated.  
“What is it like then?!”  
“Ryan, you promised me that you’d leave me alone.”  
He frowns in confusion.  
“What?”  
Jac looks down. She doesn’t want to talk about it.  
“You promised that if I did what you asked, that it would be over. That you’d stop” her words fade into a mumble, “pretending to like me.”  
“What did- what did I ask?” He asks, worried about the answer.  
She shakes her head.  
“I think it’s better that you don’t know.”  
“That’s-”  
“Listen, Ry,” she looks up at him. “You’re never gonna be the boy I want to date, and you couldn’t want me, really, if you tried. And that sucks, but there’s no forcing it. It won’t work.”  
“I’m not asking you to date me! I’m just asking you to talk to me. I’m asking you to tell me what the fuck happened that made you so done with me!”  
“Ryan,” she says in a quiet, biting tone. “I think you should check your contacts.”  
What? What?  
She pushes past Ryan and leaves the classroom.

He goes to meet Spencer and Brent in the music room, still wondering what the hell is in his contacts.   
If it’s bad enough to make Jac never want to talk to him again, doesn’t it have to be fucking awful? But what could possibly- did he ask for her mom’s number or something? Some pornstar? Ryan tries to think. No, he doesn’t know any pornstars by name. So not that. Maybe Jac said she knew a pornstar and Ryan asked for her number. No, that doesn’t even sound like him. What the fuck? Maybe there’s a note in his contacts about why she’s mad, and it’s not a number? He's clueless. He's absolutely, totally clueless as to what the hell is going on.

He gets to the music room and without a guitar, which automatically gets Spencer’s concern. Spencer looks up from the drums and carefully looks at him, but says nothing.  
“Brent,” Ryan starts thoughtfully, “do you have any idea why Jac won’t talk to me?”  
Brent shakes his head. “She didn’t tell me anything. She just said to make sure you knew not to talk to her."  
"Did she seem mad?" Ryan asks.  
"Yeah," Brent nods, "mad but also, I mean-”  
“Also what?” Spencer asks, his tone level. Ryan knows he’s also pretty curious about it all, but Brent seems confused about why he cares.  
Brent searches for the word.  
“I guess she was sort of, flustered, or something.”  
“Flustered?” Ryan asks, frowning. Brent shrugs.  
“Yeah, dude, I dunno. She was pretty drunk, so.”

Why would she be flustered? What the hell would make her flustered and then never want to talk to Ryan again? Did he embarrass her?   
Ryan finally can’t take it anymore and gets out his phone. He has to know what the fuck is in his contacts.  
Before he can check, though, Brent takes it from him.  
“No texting Jac. You’ll just make things worse,” he says, pocketing Ryan’s phone.  
“No, I-”  
“I mean it,” Brent says warningly. “You can have it back after school when Spencer can monitor you.”  
“Brent, I wasn’t gonna-”  
“Uh huh.”  
“I was just-”  
“Ryan,” Spencer says calmly. “It can wait until after school.” He smiles. “You never check your fucking texts anyways.”  
“I check them,” Ryan argues. “I just don’t respond to them.” By this point he’s already grinning, though, and he gives up to go find a guitar.

The mystery of what the hell happened is still hanging over him, of course, but he can put it aside for the one thing that actually matters: music.  
They jam through Little Plastic Trees and She’s Electric, with Ryan providing admittedly insecure and mumbly vocals, before lunch ends.

Spencer and Ryan walk to their next class while Brent goes off towards his own, taking Ryan’s phone along with him.  
“So,” Spencer says after a moment of walking in silence, “did you talk to Jac?”  
Ryan nods.  
“She wasn’t helpful?” Spencer asks.  
“Actually, I don’t know. She gave me, like, a hint.”  
Spencer raises his eyebrows. “A hint?”  
“Yeah, like, she told me where to look. But, it still doesn’t- it doesn’t piece together what happened.”  
Spencer sighs.  
“I was kinda hoping you threw up on her.”   
Ryan snorts.  
“Thanks.”  
“Okay, but wouldn’t it be simpler? She’d at least probably tell you, not just give hints.”  
“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “It would be simpler. Maybe she’s just tired of hooking up with me and she wanted to end it in some dramatic way.”  
Spencer shrugs like that’s a possibility.  
“You know, I thought of that. I think you probably did something small and she’s making it a big thing.”  
“Sounds right,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t stop worrying. Ryan Ross, he thinks to himself, anxiety extraordinaire. They pass Pete in the hallway and both give a little wave. Spencer doesn’t know Pete that well, but he’s pretty down for Ryan’s friends, generally.

“So have you talked to Laura?” Ryan asks. Spencer grunts.  
“Not really. It didn’t end as badly as your thing did, so.”  
“Yeah, I guess, but is she like, girlfriend material?”  
Spencer eyes him.  
“How would you feel if I started dating someone?”  
“Very sad,” Ryan deadpans, making a slightly forlorn face.  
“Shut up, I’m being serious. Wouldn’t you feel left out? I’d take the girl to ice cream and not you.”  
“How dare you stop dating me just for some hussy,” Ryan says with mock indignation.  
“Stop acting like you wouldn’t care! You’d totally be bummed.”  
“Here, okay, I’ll tell you what: if one of us ever gets a girlfriend, the other one will too. Either we both do or neither of us do.”  
“Yeah,” Spencer says. “That works.”

Ryan decides that Spencer cares way too much about his feelings but still lets him emotionally hold Ryan’s hand about the Jac issue and how okay it’s going to be while they walk into class.  
“You’re not a bad person, Ry,” he says as they sit down. “Not even drunk.”  
“Yeah,” Ryan nods, “thank you.”  
They both turn to focus because hey, you gotta pave your future somehow.


	4. Bad Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan has a problem.

Brent grunts when Ryan turns up at his locker. "You're such a screenager, Ross. Fine, here. No texting-" "I talked to Jac this morning. She gave me nothing."  
Brent sighs. "Couldn't help you, could I?" Ryan shoots him a guilty little smile. " 'fraid not."  
"Fine. You guys wanna get tacos?" "Yeah, I'll text Spence."  
Brent cranes his neck a little to watch Ryan's screen, and so after handily making sure Brent sees he's actually texting Spencer, Ryan leans it away from him without looking up. He handily made sure Brent saw he was texting Spencer first. "Go spy on your real girlfriend, Wilson."  
Brent huffs. "Prick."  
They walk to the parking lot together and Ryan follows Brent's little grey truck to their favorite taco place. They order and Spencer shows up a few minutes later. Ryan knew what he wanted so they all just sit down at one of the wooden tables outside of the place. Ryan doesn't check his phone for fear of getting it confiscated again. He also figures whatever awful thing is waiting in his contacts should probably be found in private, when his reaction won't be immediately clear to his friends.

"How's Pete?" Spencer asks, half jokingly.  
"He's alright, pretty mad about the whole Joe situation. I think Joe probably did bang that girl up, man. But Pete doesn't think so. Thinks it's a vicious false accusation."  
Brent mumbles through taco that Joe definitely banged that girl up and Ryan and Spencer nod sympathetically. Poor thing.

“I’ve been thinking about talking to the girl and seeing if she needs anything. Man, having Pete up against you isn’t easy.”  
“God, he’s such a dick,” Brent, who doesn’t really know Pete besides what Ryan’s told him.  
Ryan gives a half shrug.  
“It just sucks that he’s defending Joe. Feels like he should know better.”  
The other two nod. They eat in silence for a bit before Brent suggests they go somewhere and go do homework. They end up at deciding to reconvene at Spencer’s. Brent and Spencer drive away from the taco place but Ryan hangs back once he gets into his car and waits for them to drive out. He takes a deep breath.  
The parking lot of a taco joint? Not the ideal place to find out a big secret. But Ryan has to know. He just does.  
He sucks in another breath while he makes his way to his contacts app.

A  
Abe Lincoln :/ (Spencer wanted to be his first contact.)  
Adam  
Addison  
AJ  
Alex  
Alexandra

B  
Ben  
Bob  
Brendon

C  
wait

Ryan pauses and goes back up. His thoughts start to speed up, from trying to figure out what could be in his contacts to trying to piece together- well, he found the new contact. Saved a little time being a B. Brendon, the fucking, the mormon kid, from his, from his doorstep. No, come on, Jac, come on. It doesn't- it just meant Ryan wanted to check on him, man, you're not supposed to assume shit man and just- Suddenly he's aware that he's scrolling to Jac's contact. No, this needs to be- Ryan still has questions and does she think? She surely doesn't think that- He's calling her even as he remembers how little she wants to talk to him. It goes straight to voicemail. "Hiya, it's Jac. Leave a message." "Jac," Ryan says evenly to the voicemail. "I'm gonna keep calling you. You know that it's too important of information to put in little guessing games. If you ever, ever want me to leave you alone? Pick up the phone." He calls three more times before she presumably listens to the message or gets the idea and answers. "You think I'm gay," Ryan says. Jac sighs. "You asked me for a boy's number." "Did I tell you why?" "Said you were worried about him. You don't even know him Ryan what was I supposed to-" "He showed up at my door." "He-" she's stops, confused, "what?" "He, he's mormon, you know, and he was, he was, and Jac, man, you're not supposed to, you're not supposed to start that early he was, he was a year younger than us and imagine if they made you drop and out and go door to door giving pamphlets-" He realized he was rambling and stopped. The silence hangs for a second. He was so sure she wasn't going to get it. God, she wouldn't- She took a breath. "I'm sorry. I think that's, I mean I don't think it's really your business Ryan-you're so moralistic but you- it's good that you care. And I'm sorry for assuming." "Thanks, yeah." The silence hangs over them again. "I didn't-" Jac blurts, now nervous herself, "I didn't tell anyone anything." "Thanks," Ryan says. "Sorry," Jac says. "It's no big. It's not, I mean, I don't think it's like, a bad thing. Listen, I have to go, we're going to Spencer's." "Yeah, okay. Have a good day, Ry." "You too." Ryan hangs up the phone. Asking for some random boys number. That was his mortal sin. That's what made her so pissed. Good on Jac, he thought. Good on her for being way more of a major fucking homophobe than he would have thought. He sighs angrily and starts his car. What the fuck was he supposed to do, anyway? Call the fucking kid? Fuck. He doesn't even consider deleting the contact, though. Only stores the whole ordeal away in his brain, ready to explain it tonight to Spencer and Spencer only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I'm soooo sorry it's been soooooo long haha

**Author's Note:**

> Bruh this is my first fic guys let me know if you hate it haha


End file.
